


Alarums and Excursions

by MistralAmara



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post Gauda Prime, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistralAmara/pseuds/MistralAmara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vila and Soolin have escaped the Federation trap with only their lives and each other--is it enough?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alarums and Excursions

There were only the two of them left, now. Vila missed the others, but it could have been worse: he might have been left with a companion who despised him, or one who was mad. At least Soolin knew the area; knew which plants were safe to eat, and which ones could dress wounds.

They huddled together in the dark under a thin blanket of leaves, so cold and miserable that they hadn't even gone through the formality of perfunctory leers and terse warnings before wrapping themselves around each other for the added warmth. They eased into a position that hurt less than most, and held each other tight. Vila chased sleep, but couldn't find it, and passed the time counting Soolin's shallow, croupy inhalations.

Far down the slope, another half-day's hike in their condition, Vila could see the occasional gleam of an incompletely shielded campfire. It was a rebel camp, and they'd been making for it all day. They knew it was a rebel camp by the way it was intermittently shelled by Federation ordnance. It terrified Vila to think that they were walking into a hot zone on purpose, but Soolin insisted that they had no choice--they needed food, water, medical attention. Allies. If necessary, they'd leave again, once they were stronger.

She was right, so he'd agreed. But he still didn't like it.

He tried once more to sleep, but the shelling started again. He tensed as light painted the sky and explosion after explosion rocked the hillside below. _And we're walking straight into that._ He wanted to escape, to run straight back up the hill despite his weary legs, but he didn't dare move and wake Soolin. She needed rest even more than he did. He'd just have to ignore the noise. Not think about the danger. Stay calm--

A shell crashed closer than the others and he cringed involuntarily, disturbing Soolin. She groaned, but didn't open her eyes. "Vila, stop quivering. We're out of range here."

"Yeah. Unless we're not."

"I'm tired. Try to get some sleep."

He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but another shell rocked the hillside. He pulled away from Soolin and sat up, shaking. She opened her eyes and watched reproachfully as he raked a sweaty hand through his thinning hair.

"How?" he blurted. "How can you sleep through this like nothing's wrong?"

She didn't answer straightaway, but looked at him for a long moment, then patted the ground next to her. He sighed and lay down again. She pulled him close and laid her head on his chest; his arms went around her automatically. He knew she could hear his heart racing, and he waited, expecting to be reproved for his cowardice. He was surprised when, instead, she answered his question.

"When I was a girl here," she said softly, "we had harvest festivals. One of the advantages of being a frontier planet, I guess--the approved Federation calendar doesn't mean that much. Anyway, each year, all of the local families would gather at one of the farms for singing, dancing, food--the usual things. And when night fell, fireworks.

"I don't know where they came from; I suppose one of the farmers must have worked in munitions before coming to G.P. Or maybe they were contraband, I don't know. But as a child, it seemed the display went on forever. I'd lie under the stars in my mother's arms watching the colors light up the sky, and fall asleep to the sound of rockets whistling and bursting overhead." She shrugged a little. "If I close my eyes and pretend, this doesn't seem that different."

"Happy memories, then."

"A few." She looked at him. "You must have some. What do you miss from your childhood?"

"That's an easy one. Things were tough, but I always knew that someday they'd be better." He flinched as another shell streaked across the sky. "Now I know better. Things just get worse." He was surprised by the bitterness in his own voice.

"It doesn't always get worse, Vila."

He snorted. "Oh, yeah? Name once."

She reached up and cupped his stubbled cheek in a raw, weather-reddened hand. "The last time I was here," she murmured, "I was alone."

"Oh." Her family. He'd forgotten. That she could find his presence here a comfort, considering what she'd lost--well, that was something, all right. He gathered her a little closer, hoping to somehow give more warmth than he took.

Then he closed his eyes and dreamed of fireworks.

-End-


End file.
